


Don’t be scared of what you don’t already know

by elletromil, Paxdracona



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon!Harry, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Strangers to Lovers, bird!Eggsy, courting, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-02 04:19:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19433803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paxdracona/pseuds/Paxdracona
Summary: “I wouldn’t mind the company for one more day.” Harry smiles sheepishly and Eggsy spies a glimmer of something raw in his warm brown eye.It’s all he needed to be convinced. It’s not really selfish if he suspects Harry is just lonely as he is, right?“Okay, yeah. I can totally wait another day.”After he's been chased out of his commune by his dick stepfather, a surprisingly kind dragon invites Eggsy to stay at his place for the night. Or well, it's supposed to be just for one night, but Harry doesn't seem to mind when Eggsy's stay keeps getting longer and longer.





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Paxdracona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paxdracona/gifts).



> First of all, I am so very, very sorry I am a bit late for posting this, I wanted to do it yesterday evening, but had problems with my internet D: 
> 
> For this story, I've got the chance to work on paxdracona's fantastic artwork once again! I hope you all enjoy reading this :)
> 
> Before that though, I want to thank two people from the bottom of my heart. First, Britt for reading everything and encouraging me as I was writing this. And second, Red for cheering me up for the past few months and listening to me moan and whine whenever I needed to. You two are best of the best. Thank you <3
> 
> Last note: The title of this fic comes from the song Chateau by Angus & Julia Stone.

The emergency landing Eggsy is forced into making lacks any grace or finesse, but it beats letting a particularly strong gust of wind impale him onto a tree branch.

He weighs his options, trying to determine if he should risk taking off again, but rain has joined the powerful winds by then. Flying in those conditions would not only be dangerous, but just plain stupid.

What he needs is a shelter, some place he can wait for the storm to pass. He’s seen some opening in the mountain’s side that might lead to caverns deep enough to keep him relatively dry. The first rumble of thunder in the distance convinces him to try his luck and start his climbing towards the closest one.

Hopefully, it won’t already by occupied by a bear either.

He nearly tumbles all the way down when he reaches the entrance, completely unprepared to see someone standing right in front of him.

He only avoids what would have been a rather painful fall thanks to the stranger’s quick reflexes, his hand shooting out to grab at Eggsy’s wrist and tugging him forward to safety.

But instead of gratitude or relief, he only feels a sense of impending doom when he spots the man’s horns.

Maybe a bear wouldn’t have been so bad after all.

It sure would have been better than a fucking _dragon_ in any case.

*

It turns out, Eggsy had been right to assume the openings in the mountain hid caverns, but he could never have imagined just how luxurious they would be. But then again, he also couldn’t have known a bloody _dragon_ had made his home in them either.

Not that he’s seen many dragon’s lair before, or any for that matter, but they have a certain reputation.

It’s that same reputation that has kept him from fleeing as soon as the man had let go of his arm, the same reputation that had made Eggsy follow him inside. Only someone with a strong death wish would show his back to such a predator.

He thinks he’s doing a good job hiding his fear, but when his eyes dart back from the rooms to the dragon, he knows straight away that the man can see right through his false bravado.

“I’m Harry Hart and I welcome you into my home.” He smiles softly, his dimples making him appear friendly even with the eyepatch, but he doesn’t make a move towards him. “No harm shall come to you for as long as you’ll be my guest.”

Eggsy can only stare in disbelief at the words. They should have settled Eggsy’s nerves, but he can only think of all the terrible stories about dragons’ cruelty and savagery. Harry’s polite demeanour totally clashes with everything he’s been taught about dragons and it leaves his mind reeling.

“Are you hungry? I was just about to dine.” Apparently, Eggsy’s rudeness leaves him completely unphased. His perfect manners reminds him of an owl that lived in his commune when he was much younger. But instead of coming across as prim, proper and judgemental, he looks welcoming and kind.

A loud crackle of thunder is what finally shakes him out of his daze.

Sure, it goes against all he knows, but what has he to lose anyway?

Chased out of his home by his dick of a step-father, renounced by friends and family, caught in a storm far away from any settlement, he’ll surely die if he tries to leave.

So even if it ends up being a mistake and Harry decides he’ll make a good snack or something, at least he’ll stay dry and warm in the meantime.

“Eggsy- Erm, I mean, my name. My name’s Eggsy.” And because his mum did raise him with some manners, he thrusts his hand forward for a handshake.

The gesture seems to surprise Harry, but his eye crinkles with what can only be pleased amusement as he shakes his hand. His grip is firm but somewhat soft, Harry clearly having nothing to prove. Either because he’s simply _that_ confident or because he doesn’t feel threatened by a lowly magpie like Eggsy. There’s no way to tell and to be honest, Eggsy really doesn’t care. “And yeah, I guess I could eat.”

He’s ravenous in fact, hasn’t eaten since the day before, but even if he’s decided to let the Fates do what they will with him, he still got some pride. Harry doesn’t have to know just how desperate his situation is.

“Perfect!” Harry _beams_ , there is no other way to describe it and Eggsy is hit with the realisation of just how _handsome_ the other man is. Thankfully, Harry turns and starts following a tunnel before he notices Eggsy’s sudden flush. “I hope you like fruits! But if not, that’s quite alright, I’ve got a wide variety of food.”

Harry blabbers on as he leads him to a dining room, pulling a chair for him.

“Fruit’s okay,” he finally answers as Harry pushes him toward the table effortlessly. At least, that part of the stories he heard about dragons seems to be right. They _are_ strong as hell.

“Are you sure? I know everyone can make-do with a wide variety of food, but if you have any preferences, it really won’t be any trouble at all.”

“It’s good, I promise.” He wouldn’t say no to some meat, but he doesn’t want to come off as difficult either. Anyway, so late into the fall like that, fruits are practically all his commune could afford.

“If you’re sure. I’ll be right back.”

It’s only when Harry returns about ten minutes later that Eggsy realises that this would have been the perfect chance to escape.

But the thing is, even if he obviously doesn’t trust Harry entirely -- or at all -- he’s also tired of running. Tired of having to fight.

Maybe Harry will reveal himself to be dangerous down the line, but he’ll take perfect manners hiding a serial killer or something over his dick stepfather right now.

Once Harry sets the huge plate of fruits on the table before taking his seat though, all thoughts of fleeing or fighting leave his mind.

It’s not so much the quantity and variety of the choice that freezes him in his spot, even though it does give him pause for a short second.

Sure, there’s enough to feed a small family, but Eggsy doesn’t have the first clue as to how much a dragon needs to eat in a day. This could be perfectly normal for Harry. And while the variety is impressive, everything he’s seen so far from Harry and his home screams _money_ , so it’s not really a surprise.

No, the thing that really catches his eyes is the pomegranate seeds on the plate.

“Is everything alright?” Harry asks after a short while. He’s frowning in clear confusion, obviously trying to figure out what is on the plate that could have had such an effect on his guest.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’m just… Just not used to seeing pomegranate seeds outside of weddings. It’s usually shared between newlyweds.” He winces as soon as he says it and he sees the embarrassed blush spreading on Harry’s cheeks.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Eggsy cuts him off before he can continue, because _obviously_ Harry didn’t know and he must be completely _mortified_ at the unintended implication of the food he’s so generously offering. “It’s just food and a silly tradition from Persephone’s time. Hers is considered an example of a perfect mating among magpies, so like, the seeds are kinda like an additional vow to stay together and faithful, yeah?”

His explanation only seems to make Harry’s blush deepen and if it was socially acceptable, Eggsy would probably be hitting his head against the table. _Repeatedly_.

 _Of course_ , Harry is even more uncomfortable now. Persephone has been a magpie, but her mate, Hades, had been a _dragon_. He probably thinks Eggsy is coming on to him, _desperately strong_ , and he’s too polite to just kick him out of his home. Or the shock is still stopping him.

But before Eggsy can apologize and tell him to forget it, Harry clears his throat and nods with what looks like understanding.

He still looks a bit flustered, but he also looks earnestly _interested_.

Not in a flirty way though, because why the fuck would he look twice at _Eggsy_ , but more as if it’s a topic he’s curious about. And sure, Eggsy can understand that. Others’ cultures and traditions are kind of a neat subject.

“For dragons, the seeds are a show of hospitality and respect. And also a way to honor Persephone’s influence in our heritage. It’s said that it is thanks to her that we can digest fruits and not just eat meat.”

“Oh that’s cool. For us it’s the opposite. It’s thanks to Hades that we can eat meat.” If he was with his friends, he'd make a couple of jokes about Persephone loving Hades' _meat_ , but even if he's different from all the other snobs Eggsy has met in his life, Harry still seems a bit too classy to find such humor anything but tasteless.

“Similar ideas, but twisted around so they can fit appropriately the culture it pertains to.” He looks like he’s about to say more, but stops himself abruptly with a sheepish smile. “Anyway, considering the meaning they hold for you, don’t feel bad about not eating any.”

He looks sincere enough and anyway, it’s not like he’d have a reason to lie. But at the same time, Eggsy cannot deny he’s _curious_. Especially with no one around to judge him.

“Actually, where’s the harm in tasting one?”

Quickly, before he can lose his nerve, he reaches for one of the seeds and pops it in his mouth. The slightly sour taste when he bites down kind of surprises him, but not in an unpleasant way.

In fact, he grabs for a few more, before focusing on other fruits.

Harry doesn’t say anything, but he is smiling, clearly amused.

And even if there is a bit of awkwardness due to the fact that they’re basically _strangers_ , Eggsy quite enjoys the whole ‘sitting-down-for-dinner’ thing.

Enough so that, after he’s crashed into the soft bed in the room Harry shows him too later on, he finds himself thinking that it wouldn’t be so bad if he was forced to stay a day for each seed he ate.

Six days with Harry sounds like fun.

***

The storm has passed them come morning, but it’s still raining steadily outside.

Harry follows him to the entrance after breakfast, looking anxious and worried, his hands twisting together.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay until it clears off? The next settlement is a good day of flight away still. And I’m sure that much rain is as bad if not worse on your wings then it is on mine.”

He’s got a good point with that. He _can_ fly in the rain, but it's not very advisable in a long-term capacity. Not to mention the risk to run into another storm and trying to fly in that kind of weather is simply suicidal.

But Eggsy has imposed on him long enough as it is. He can’t justify taking advantage of Harry's kindness anymore.

His resolve must not show on his expression though because Harry keeps on insisting gently.

“Is your travelling time-sensitive? Surely you can spare another day. Even if you’re to meet someone, they would understand the delay, would they not? Considering the weather and all.”

The words make his heart ached with homesickness.

There’s no certainty that settlement will be the haven he wishes for. There’s no one waiting for him anywhere. No one to worry about him anymore.

Except for Harry that is.

Even if he’s known him for less than a day and he has no doubt he’ll be forgotten in even less time, right now Harry _cares_.

Sure, it has nothing to do with _him_ , not really. It’s just Harry being honor-bound because of his status as Eggsy’s host. It’s not so different in a commune until you do something to piss off your dick of a leader enough for him to kick you out.

But it’s still nice, even if it’s only Harry’s pride talking.

“I wouldn’t mind the company for one more day.” Harry smiles sheepishly and Eggsy spies a glimmer of something raw in his warm brown eye.

It’s all he needed to be convinced. It’s not really selfish if he suspects Harry is just lonely as he is, right?

“Okay, yeah. I can totally wait another day.”

*

Even if Eggsy’s determined to be as little of a bother for him as he can, Harry definitely has other ideas.

“Your clothes need a good wash and I have some laundry to do anyway. And I’m sure you’d enjoy a good bath too.”

Eggsy’s not stupid enough not to realise it’s a polite way to tell him he stinks a bit and probably looks like he’s rolled in the dirt, but he can’t even be mad. Harry isn’t _wrong_ after all.

And normally he would jump on the chance to clean up a little except… Except he doesn’t have any more clothes than what he has on his back. Dean didn’t exactly left him the time to pack when he kicked him out of the commune.

“I don’t- I mean- I-”

Thankfully, before he can bumble more of that explanation, Harry catches on and cuts him off with a snap of his fingers.

“Right! You were travelling light! No worries, I’ve got more than enough clothes you can choose from.”

He would recoil at being treated like a charity case, but he can’t detect any pity in Harry’s eye. It’s just… practicality.

As if he’s used to travellers stopping at his home for a short stay with nothing on them but clothes and a name.

“Come on, follow me. I’ll give you a towel so you can choose while I get started on the washing.”

They stop in the bathroom so he can do exactly that, Harry waiting outside while Eggsy undresses and wraps himself in the towel. Maybe he should feel self-conscious, but the towel is big enough that he could easily roll himself in it three times. The most Harry will see is a bit of his collarbone and his feet. Nothing much improper about it, Especially when he gets his own wings to further cover more of his chest in case the towel falls off a bit from his shoulders.

Anyway, it’s not like Harry spares him more than a glance before leading him to another room in the same tunnel.

He’s not sure what he expected when Harry opens the door, but it sure isn’t _that_.

He knows what a walk-in closet is of course. But that’s more of a walk-in _house_ than a closet.

“What the fuck.” The words escape his lips before he can stop them, but Harry only chuckles at his reaction.

He even looks _proud_ when Eggsy turns to face him.

“Did I not mention I hoard clothing?” He looks innocent, but Eggsy isn’t fooled. The fluttering of his eyelashes isn’t enough to distract from the mischievous turn of his smile. The little _shit_. “It’s all about the patterns, colours and fabrics… Even if it doesn’t fit me, I can’t resist.”

He’s heard of a dragon’s hoard. Everyone has. He’s never heard of them being anything but jewels and gems, but then again, there’s obviously a lot of misconceptions about dragons.

And sure, maybe it’s presumptuous of him to think so, but this fits Harry better than a pile of jewelry.

“Take as long as you like choosing. And don’t hesitate to take anything. What I would keep to myself isn’t in here.”

 _That_ , of course, makes him immediately curious as to what Harry considers only _his_ , but it’s not really his place to ask.

Soon, he’s left alone in the room, feeling a bit overwhelmed even if everything is in impeccable order. Harry obviously keeps to a very strict system.

Then, his eyes catch on a bright golden colour and after making sure it fits, it’s surprisingly easy to find the rest of what he’ll wear after his bath.

Though he sure as hell wouldn’t have believed it if anyone had told him that Harry, the dragon who wears a bloody _suit_ in his own home, owned such a garish vest.

*

He wakes up alone, groggy and disoriented, freaking out for a moment until he recognizes his unfamiliar surroundings for Harry's living room. He feels slightly ridiculous for his momentary panic, but at the same time, he's not very used to just napping at all.

Sleeping means being vulnerable and with Dean around, Eggsy has learned not to show any kind of weaknesses.

Which makes it all the more surprising that despite Harry being in the same room as him, he just fell asleep like that.

But even if there had still been some awkwardness in their silence that afternoon, there had been something oddly comforting to sharing his space with him. Maybe it was just the warmth from the fire roaring in the fireplace. Or maybe it was just how domestic it had all felt, quietly reading with another being nearby.

Harry's reading had been more involved than Eggsy's, the dragon surrounded by open books, a pen in his hand -- and another one tucked behind his ear -- its tip laying against the page of a notepad, ready to take notes. Eggsy had been curious, but he hadn't wanted to disturb him. No matter how _easy_ it is to be in Harry's company, they aren't _friends_.

But he doesn't have the luxury to indulge himself with a good book often, so it wasn't exactly a hardship to focus on his own reading.

Which makes it even more of a shame that he fell asleep ten pages into the James Bond novel he found on Harry's shelves.

Before he can mourn the lost opportunity for much longer however, Harry comes back, carrying a large tray, the pen behind his ear still in its spot, most likely forgotten. It's kind of adorable.

“Ah, I see you're awake again.” Eggsy winces and tries to apologize, but Harry dismisses them with a wave of his hand. “It's more than alright. If you slept, it means you needed the rest. Best you do that here before you continue travelling.”

Eggsy nods and tries his best to smile while simultaneously biting the inside of his cheeks in order not to say anything he would regret. For a moment there, he had forgotten his stay at Harry's was only temporary.

It won't matter if he still feels sore all over tomorrow, he'll still have to go.

“And now, please dig in,” Harry gesture at the tray he's set down on the coffee table with an over-dramatic flourish that gets a real smile out of Eggsy.

Much like yesterday, the plate is full of fruits but there is also the addition of cheese and bread.

Neither mentioned the conspicuous absence of any pomegranate seeds this time.

***

Eggsy wakes up feverishly a few times.

Or he dreams that he wakes up.

Or he wakes up into a dream.

He… he definitely does one of those things -- or all of them possibly.

Throughout all this, he's certain of two things.

One, he's caught the cold to end all colds. He feels so out of it that even trying to remember the last time he was that sick is hurting him.

Two… Two, except if Harry throws him out of his home himself, Eggsy isn't going anywhere.

Vaguely, he knows something about that last one should worry him. But even if his life depended on it, he can't focus on which part should concern him more than the other.

So instead, he tries to sleep. Or wake up.

He's not entirely too sure which.

***

The blissfully cool hand resting on his forehead for a brief moment before disappearing is what finally wakes him up, a whine escaping his throat before he can stop it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Harry is sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling at him in what would be sheepishness if it wasn’t for the clear relief in his eyes. “Do you feel any better?”

Eggsy is confused for a second until his mind and body fully catch up together and bloody _fuck_ , he should have stayed asleep. His whole body feels sore, he can only breathe through his mouth and his throat feels like it’s on fire.

“Am I dying?” He croaks out painfully, unsure if his voice sounds like that because he just woke up or if it’s because he’s sick.

“You’re not,” Harry answers him unnecessarily.

Of course Eggsy knows he’s not dying. And if it hadn’t been for the concern seeping in Harry’s expression, he would probably make a joke that it is rather unfortunate. But that would be kind of insensitive when the man clearly worried about him. Because of course he did. Of course he’s exactly the kind of person who would feel responsible even for stuff that he can’t possibly control.

“Yeah, no, I figured. I’m just being over-dramatic, sorry.”

It doesn’t seem to reassure Harry in the least, so Eggsy tries to sit up. Unfortunately, much like his voice, his arms aren’t really cooperating with him at the moment. Just how long has he been asleep exactly?

“Take it easy, you’ve been running a fever for the last two days,” Harry answers his unasked question as he carefully helps him to lean against the headboard. “I would have gone to find a doctor, but I was afraid to leave you alone.”

There’s a guilt there that Harry cannot hide and Eggsy winces. Harry shouldn’t feel bad about any of this. He’s gone well above and beyond what a stranger should have done.

“Shite, Harry, no, it’s good, it’s just a cold.” It is of course the moment he’s seized up into a coughing fit. It’s so bad and last for such a long time that Eggsy is surprised he didn’t end up coughing blood, let alone a lung. “Okay, a bad cold, but still just a cold,” he amends once he’s downed the glass of water Harry offers him.

Harry doesn’t look impressed, but he seems willing to let it slide. It’s probably easier now that Eggsy is coherent enough to hold a conversation.

“If you’re sure… Are you hungry? I’ve made soup."

Now that Harry mentions it, he does feel rather ravenous. He nods enthusiastically, hoping he won’t trigger any other coughing fit if he avoids talking when he doesn’t absolutely have to.

He must still be slightly out of it because it’s just when Harry reaches for it that Eggsy realises there’s a tray with a bowl on the nightstand.

He wants to protest that he can take it from there, but it seems to help Harry calm down to have something to do. As long as he doesn’t try to spoon-feed him, Eggsy figures he can let Harry fuss a bit. It’s kinda nice to have someone do so.

Once he’s made sure the tray wouldn’t overbalance and Eggsy has his spoon in hand, Harry gets up again with the empty glass Eggsy had forgotten about. He won’t ever admit it, but for a second, he’s disappointed that Harry is already leaving. But he doesn’t go too far, just to the other side of the room to grab a pitcher of water that has been left out on top of the dresser.

Before Harry can finish with his self-appointed task and turn around to find him staring, Eggsy focuses back onto his bowl. He can’t smell anything, but the soup is steaming pleasantly, big chunks of vegetables floating in the broth. Put it simply, it looks delicious.

His first spoonful is heavenly. It’s warm, smooth and just spicy enough that he can taste something. He might or might not moan out loud.

Harry chuckles as he sits back down, leaving the glass on the nightstand. “I take it it’s good?”

Eggsy nods again, this time because he’s too busy eating as much of the soup he possibly can. He cen never eats much when he’s sick and it has never felt like more of a shame than right now.

As it is, he only leaves about a fourth of the bowl untouched. He hopes there’s going to be more of it whenever he feels hungry again.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go for chicken broth,” he says after thanking Harry for the meal and Harry took the tray and put it down. “You seem like a traditional bloke.”

“Oh. Well, I would have, but I wasn’t too sure if it was okay with you. You haven’t really expended on your dietary needs and restrictions. And, well. You’re a magpie. I thought it would be… weird.”

He can’t blame Harry for playing it on the safe side. Many races kind of frown upon eating an animal that comes too close to what they are.

“Nah, it would have been fine. We’re a predator bunch too you know. And kinda fucked up if you want to believe the old stories where we would eat the eggs of our enemies without qualms.” Maybe it’s not something he should have mentioned, cause it sure ain’t a part of their history they’re proud of --except for some pretty sick individuals--, but apparently, he doesn't have any filter around Harry.

Luckily, Harry doesn’t look too disgusted. In fact, he seems interested. Which might be a tad disturbing.

“You seem to know a lot of “old stories” about your people. Why’s that?” Eggsy hesitates, suddenly a bit uncomfortable, reminded that he doesn’t know much about Harry at all. He might seem nice, but Dean did too in the beginning. Harry must realise he’s feeling uneasy now, because he winces slightly before apologizing. “I’m sorry. I realise I’ve never said what my profession was. I research history and mythology. Like a few other races, magpies don’t seem to have kept a lot of records, so we have to go with what other races wrote. I got a bit excited, I think.”

“Oh.” That kind of makes sense. And Eggsy is probably not the first one to be put off by Harry’s questions on the matter if he guessed the reason behind his discomfort on the first try. “Well, I don’t know for the others, but it would make sense for us. We’re rather big on oral tradition.”

Harry lights up at his little discovery. “Well, if you are comfortable with it, I’d like to ask you some questions! Do you-”

Eggsy tries not to interrupt, he really does, but turns out if he tries to stop himself from coughing, he ends up choking up on top of it.

Harry hands him back the glass of water at once, any excitement he was feeling having disappeared from his expression to left only worry.

When Eggsy can breathe again, Harry gently pushes onto his shoulders until he’s lying on his back once more.

“You should rest some more. Any question I have can wait until you feel better. Not that you have to answer them, I just meant-”

“I don’t mind,” Eggsy says in a rush, mostly to stop Harry from rambling on. Even if it’s kind of cute, he’s not quite awake anymore to appreciate it.

Harry smiles and brushes his hair from his forehead. It should be awkward, but like many other things with Harry, it isn’t.

“Alright, thank you. Now sleep.”

He wants to protest, say that he’s slept enough already.

But his words are lost to a yawn and he finds he cannot open his eyes anymore.

***

By the next day, he feels decidedly better.

Not enough to attempt flying because he's not an idiot, but enough so that he feels like he'll go crazy if he has to stare at the same four walls for any longer.

He debates with himself for a moment until he comes to the conclusion that Harry probably won't be mad if he rests on his couch instead of his bed. If anything, it'll make his hovering easier.

The living room is empty when he walks in. He hesitates briefly before deciding against trying to find Harry. He doesn't know his habits, but there's still a pile of books next to his armchair, a few of them still open. He'll probably be back soon enough.

He's about to settle down when he's hit by a shiver and he curses his oversight for not bringing a blanket with him. He eyes the fireplace, but he can't see any matches anywhere.

What he does find though is Harry's red robe thrown on the back of his armchair. And well, he's certainly not using it at the moment.

Putting it on feels a bit like he had imagined wrapping himself up in a cloud would have felt like when he was young. How Harry would rather wear his suits when he's at home instead of lounging in his robe is beyond Eggsy.

He's not quite asleep when Harry comes back. Eggsy hears him before he sees him. His singing is slightly off-key, but not enough that Eggsy cannot recognise the song. It makes him smile and he wonders if Harry has seen any other plays or if it's only My Fair Lady.

“Hey,” he waves from his spot on the couch, unwilling to get up from his comfortable sprawl.

Harry jumps, startled, obviously not expecting to see him here. At least, he doesn't drop the tray of food he's carrying.

He stares for a long moment, a blush blooming on his cheeks, probably at having been heard singing when he thought he was alone.

“I felt better, so I thought I'd crash here for the day if it's okay with you.” Eggsy breaks the silence after a while, not quite uncomfortable under Harry's heavy gaze, but growing a bit more self-conscious by the second. Thankfully, it seems to shake Harry out of whatever spell fell upon him.

“Erm, yes, of course.” There's an awkward pause, then Harry finally tears his eyes away from him and sets the tray on the coffee table. “Umm, how- why are you wearing my robe?” He's still blushing and pointedly not looking at him.

Eggsy's insides twist weirdly at the thought Harry's so embarrassed by some harmless singing. Sure, he'll never get a starring role, but it was still nice. But, since he's clearly trying to change the subject, Eggsy has pity on him and follow his lead.

“I was cold. I didn't want to go back for a blanket and I couldn't figure out your fireplace.”

He grins, but the effect is kind of lost on Harry since he's still looking anywhere but at him.

“Oh, right, I should have thought of that. My apologies.”

Before Eggsy can tell him not to worry about it, he kneels in front of the fireplace and inhales deeply. Then, he breathes out fire and Eggsy is now the one staring at him.

“Bloody hell!” He knew of course that dragons could make fire. But there's a difference between _knowing_ and actually _seeing_ it right in front of his eyes.

It makes him forget entirely about his lassitude and he goes to kneel behind Harry even if he's done already.

“That was so cool!”

Harry's blush returns and he tries to wave Eggsy's awe dismissively, with no success. “It's nothing.”

“Fuck off, that wasn't 'nothing'! You breathe fire Harry! Fire!” He feels like a kid seeing snow for the first time and he doesn't care. He's seconds away from clapping excitedly.

“It’s not that impressive,” Harry insists, “comes with being a dragon.” But there’s no hiding the way he’s holding himself straighter than he had been, preening under Eggsy’s enthusiasm.

“Never met a dragon before, yeah? We magpies don’t have any neat tricks like you lot do.” Not a lot of races do compared to dragons.

“Well, I think you’re a rather admirable young man.” There is something like defensiveness in Harry’s tone and Eggsy is the one fighting a blush this time. He’s not sure if he’s entirely successful.

He distracts himself by shrugging off the robe. It’s quite hot by the fire. It has nothing to do with how he’s so close to Harry that he can feel the warmth of his body.

Harry turns his head to look at him, a mischievous glint in his eye. “But well, if you want to see another neat trick, you should come closer.”

He shuffles closer, so that they are kneeling side by side, shivering when Harry raises his leathery wing above him so that they can fit together more easily. He’s probably still a bit feverish.

He gasps when Harry suddenly reaches into the fire with his bare hand. Thankfully before he can make a fool of himself and dragging him backwards or something, Harry pulls it out, hand cupped upward.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Harry’s hand isn’t burned. It isn’t even _burning_. And yet, he’s _holding up_ a bloody _flame_ in his palm like one would do a ball.

“I still need to be careful about the clothes, obviously, but we’re quite impervious to most kinds of fire. And to a certain extent, we can even control it.” He makes the flame dances around his fingers, Eggsy watching with rapt attention.

“Damn, I want to be a dragon.”

“I assure you, it gets old pretty fast. Flying is more interesting and you’ve got prettier wings than I do.”

Eggsy glances at their wings on his side and has to bite the inside of his cheek not to blurt out what he really thinks. To him, Harry’s wings are way cooler than his own, the leather of them looking temptatively soft.

He looks away before he can foolishly reach out to actually touch them, but something must have shown in his expression, because there’s a light flush on Harry’s cheek. _Again_.

Eggsy really needs to stop embarrassing him.

“Come on, show me what else you can do with that flame. I’m sure you can do more.” It’s a clumsy attempt to change the subject, but Harry jumps on it nonetheless, returning his gaze on the flame in his hand.

And not a minute too soon either, because Eggsy finally realises that Harry has paid _him_ a compliment and he must turn just as red as the dragon’s wings.

  


***

“What are you doing?”

He doesn’t startle when Harry joins him in the kitchen, mostly because he’s heard him tumble his way down the corridor. Apparently, even if he’s already dressed to the nines in one of his suits, his host isn’t much of a morning person.

“Washing the dishes,” he throws Harry a grin over his shoulder as he sets the plate he’s holding on the drying rack. He sees Harry’s returning smile -- just confused enough to confirm Eggsy’s theory that the dragon is still half asleep -- before he goes back to his mountain of dirty dishes.

“Why?”

It’s a good thing he’s not currently facing Harry because even if he manages to bite back a rather rude answer, he’s pretty sure he’s pulling a face that says everything he’s thinking.”

“‘cause I wanted to make breakfast,” is what he settles on, as if it explains everything. Which it kinda does. His mum would have had a right fit if she had seen the state of Harry’s kitchen when he first stepped in.

“What? But you’re my guest, you don’t have to make b-” Even if he’s not looking, Eggsy can feel the moment Harry finally grasps the full situation. “You don’t have to wash the dishes!”

Harry is right behind him now and Eggsy half-turns to face him, hands still deep in the soapy water. “I don’t have to do a lot of things. I still choose to do them though.”

“But- It’s not like I don’t have plenty of clean plates! Even if I only kept a fourth of my grandfather’s hoard, it’s still enough that I could go a year without washing.”

“Oh yeah, I saw that.” He had been wondering about how and why Harry had come to own so many kitchenware. After all, there’s being prepared for an unexpected guest or ten and then there is being prepared for an entire _colony_. “But the same can’t be said of your pots and pans. And as long as I’ve already got my hands in soap, might as well do the whole thing.”

“You’re a _guest_ ,” Harry insists, as if it’ll make Eggsy drop everything this time around. To be fair, it probably would have worked the first day of his stay. But after being sick and having kinda forced Harry into taking care of him, Eggsy doesn’t have any reluctance in doing what he believes is right. Even if it goes against what Harry wants.

“Sure, I’m a guest. And that’s precisely it! The dirty dishes were giving me anxiety! They were on the verge of sentience! Now, if you really want to be helpful, why don’t you start on breakfast? Heavens know I won’t be done for a while here.”

He turns decisively back to his washing, intent on ignoring any further protesting from Harry.

But it never comes. Except for a huff and an amused ‘bossy’ muttered under his breath, Harry does exactly as he is told.

And more too. Whenever he gets a moment between preparing some mushrooms and baking the beans, he comes to dry off some of the clean dishes and put them away.

“It’s doesn’t get that bad usually, you know?” Harry breaks the nearly comfortable silence between them when Eggsy hands him the last glass. “But you were sick and I was worried and-”

Eggsy waves him off before he can continue.

“Hey, it’s okay. Ain’t judging you. I’m just a bit of a neat freak. If I see a mess, I just have to do something about it. And it’s not like I hate doing it. It’s kinda relaxing.”

The face Harry makes at that is clear indication that _he_ is judging _Eggsy_ for that. Eggsy gives him a playful shoves in retaliation.

“Hey! You’ve got your hoard, let me have my cleaning.”

“Fair enough,” Harry agrees in a tone of voice that implies he still believes that Eggsy is crazy.

Eggsy merely rolls his eyes, but decides to let it go. Breakfast is far more pressing than a not-argument. He’s _famished_.

*

“What are you doing now?”

His voice is close to whine, but when Eggsy looks up from his spot on the floor, a smile softens Harry’s bemused expression.

“Putting your bookshelves into order. It’s a wonder you can find anything you’re looking for here.” He puts the theology book on his third pile of academia, already mulling over how he’ll subdivised them when he puts them back. He’s only on the third shelf of six bookshelves and so far, there’s as many fiction books as non-fiction. It’s an eclectic and impressive collection, but one that is ordered without rhyme or reason as far as Eggsy can tell. He lucked out that first day when he found the James Bond novel at first glance.

“It’s ordered chaos,” Harry tries to explain, but cuts himself off when Eggsy rolls his eyes, unimpressed.

“Nothing’s ordered here Harry.” He picks the next book and, after a cursory glance at its cover and content, hands it to the dragon. “If it was, you’d have that book by your armchair.”

Eggsy might not be a professional researcher, but something titled ‘Cursed Lovers and the Gods who Hated Them: Orpheus, Echo, Tithonus and many others’ would probably be a good reference for someone looking into Orpheus and Eurydice’s legend. Call it a hunch.

“Where did you fin-?! Actually, no, don’t answer that.”

Eggsy cackles, but that’s the only way he expresses his triumph in the little argument they were not really having. Anyway, his gloating would probably be lost on Harry who is already engrossed in the pages of his book, fumbling his way backward to his armchair.

With a fond shake of his head, Eggsy turns back to his self-appointed task, a smile tugging at his lips.

It’s nice to feel helpful once in a while.

*

That evening, there are pomegranate seeds at dinner again.

It makes Eggsy realises that even if it's partly due to circumstances outside of his control, he did end up staying six days with Harry. And except for the whole being sick deal, it has indeed been pretty fun.

It also makes him realise he's more than overstayed his welcome by this point. He should have left today in fact.

But Harry hasn't mentioned him leaving since he convinced him to wait so that the storm would clear off at the beginning of the week. And if he's learned something about Harry over the last few days, it's that even if he's polite, he's also quite honest and open with what he thinks.

If he really wanted Eggsy to go, surely he would have said something by now.

Before he can think better of it, Eggsy pops a few seeds in his mouth. Harry keeps on talking about his research as if nothing of note happened, but Eggsy thinks there is something more relaxed about him now. It makes Eggsy wonder if Harry had also been counting the days down for some reason.

In the end, he eats fifteen seeds. Two more weeks before he'll be out of Harry's hair for good.

That's not too selfish, right?


	2. Nesting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry and Eggsy learns to live together and they receive the visit of an (un)expected guest.

They fall into a nice routine pretty quickly.

The first one to get in the kitchen is on cleaning duty for whatever they decided to abandon the previous day and starts the kettle for tea. Then whoever got out of bed last -- which is never by too long an interval -- starts on breakfast and takes over making tea.

They eat and then Eggsy cleans out the table while Harry either goes back to his research or do a load of laundry. As laundry is his most dreaded house chore, Eggsy never tries to take over on that one. And he rather enjoys listening to Harry’s whistling absent-mindedly while he folds their clothing in the living room as Eggsy reads sprawled on the couch he’s claimed as his own.

In the morning, Eggsy continues his undertaking of putting Harry’s shelves into some kind of order. He thought it was going rather well until Harry sheepishly showed him where the actual library was located in his home.

(“I’m fucking Belle.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he gathers his jaw from the floor.

“I’m sorry what?”

“From Beauty and the Beast. The Disney fairy tale?” He refuses to believe that Harry hasn’t heard of the Disney books. Even if they’re aimed at children, they’ve been a big enough hit to reach his commune. That says equally as much about his commune than it does about Disney’s popularity.

“Oh. I know of them, but only in rather broad terms.”

“Oh well, Beast is a cursed wolf-prince and he's got this huge library that he shows Belle to-” Eggsy stops abruptly, suddenly not that comfortable with his own comparison anymore. He’s no rabbit-lady princess-to-be after all and Harry isn’t trying to keep him imprisoned. If anything, Eggsy’s the one finding excuses to stay. “So yeah, I won’t bore you with the details, but basically he’s got a huge library.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at him in curiosity but thankfully doesn’t press.

“Well, I’m sure his collection isn’t as impressive as my great-grandmother’s.”

“We won’t know until it’s back into sensible order, will we?” He’s delighted when Harry sticks his tongue out at him for his jab. “It would be too much to ask for a catalogue, would it?”

Whether or not there’s actually one, one look at Harry’s expression suffice to know he’s got no clue either.

Oh well, in any case, it’ll make for a rather neat project.)

And so they both work in comfortable silence, the scratch of Harry's pen on paper and Eggsy's infrequent sneezes due to all the dust the only sounds between them. Sometimes there is also a thank you, when Harry comes back from a break with tea and scones or when Eggsy puts another book on his desk for his research. So far, he's never guessed wrong at what would be useful to Harry.

(“You've got a freaking desk. Why don't you use it?” Eggsy asks later the same day he's been shown the library for the first time.

“It's rather cluttered.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes at the answer. It's 'rather' an understatement. He nearly says so, but he's glad he hasn't when he glances back at Harry in his armchair. There's something nearly forlorn with him as he stares off in the distance between them.

“My mother used to work for the same university that I do. So we'd both work in there pretty often and my dad would pick up after us. When they died, I tried to continue in the same way, but it turns out I'm not very good at keeping things ordered.”

He's still not really looking at anything and Eggsy has never wanted to hug anyone so much in his life.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Harry waves a hand before Eggsy can figure out what he ‘didn’t’. Didn’t know about his parents? Didn’t mean to bring up such a sensitive subject?

“It’s been years now. I’ve been meaning to clean everything up, but I never know where to start. And it never seemed worth it until…” Harry trails off, his cheeks flushing and Eggsy wonders how he would have finished his thought. He’s not so vain to believe it has anything to do with him. His arrival and subsequent stay here cannot have had that much of an impact on Harry.

It would be nice though.

They don’t say much else as they finish their tea that afternoon.

~

“Ta-dah!” Eggsy exclaims, pointing at the now clean desk tucked in a corner of the library. “Now you can work in here and I won’t have to walk a mile just to bring you a book.”

He’s exaggerating, but only slightly. Harry’s home is _huge_ and it’s only now that he’s started exploring more of it that he understands just by how much.

“Eggsy you didn’t have to-”

“I know. But I did it. Now you’ll only have to keep it tidy. I won’t do it for you, I’ve got enough on my plate already.” After deciding that he really needed a catalogue to keep track of the books after all, things have been going much more slower.

And he’s lost a whole morning cleaning the desk. It would have gone faster, but he found some papers written by someone else than Harry. He’d bet all the possessions he doesn’t have that the handwriting belongs to his late mother. And so, he’s had to figure out which books had been used for the notes so as to not put them away too soon.

He’s left the whole thing in a tidy stack on a corner of the desk in order to let Harry discover them on his own. He can respect how some stuff should stay private and that certainly feels like it.

“It could be yours you know.” Harry tries, but Eggsy shakes his head.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m fine with the table. It suits my purpose just fine.” Said table is more or less in the middle of the room and is covered in Eggsy’s different piles of books and his own notes for the catalogue. “I won’t say no to a nicer chair once I start reworking the catalogue in its final version, but at the moment, I’m on my feet more often than not.”

It’s proof that they know each other well by now, because Harry stops insisting at that. But Eggsy hasn’t missed how his expression had become intent when he had mentioned a new chair, much like he had predicted.

It’s all about compromises right?)

Eggsy usually stops working after lunch. Harry tries to, but even when he reads for leisure, it seems he can’t _not_ take notes of some kind. It’s cute.

So they either read in the living room or sometimes play cards. Harry has tried once to teach him how to play chess. He doesn’t seem to have abandoned the project yet avec if Eggsy had been utterly abysmal. Eggsy… isn’t too sure if he wants another go at it or not.

(“So what, no great-great-grand-uncle twice removed with a board game hoard?” He half-asks, half-teases Harry when the dragon tells him he only has cards and a set of chess for entertainment.

“It was my father’s actually.” Eggsy feels like his stomach has turned to lead or something for a moment, until he notices that Harry doesn’t look sad. There’s a bittersweet twist in his smile, yes, but there’s nothing _sad_. “It was quite the collection. But rather useless to a confirmed bachelor like me. I gave them to some friends with a big family instead. Father would have wanted it that way.”

“Of course.” He’s come to realise that for the most part, dragon hoards doesn’t seem to be such a private affair as the stories make them to be.

Harry hasn’t minded in the least when Eggsy had started relocating some clothes to the dresser and closet in his bedroom. He even brings new articles he thinks Eggsy will like with the clean laundry sometimes.

A hoard is to be displayed and admired. But most of all, it’s meant to be _shared_.

Turns out dragons are just as sweet as their reputation is terrifying.

“We could pick something out next time we go in town.”

Eggsy nods, because that does sound like a good idea

It’s only much later that evening, when he’s on the verge of falling asleep that he realises what Harry implied earlier.

That they’ll pick up something together because Eggsy will be coming _back_ home with him.

It’s a long time before he calms down enough to find sleep.)

On one occasion, Harry showed him the vegetable garden on a corniche high on the slope of the mountain. How Eggsy missed it until now is beyond him. It does explain how Harry has so much fresh produce. Though Eggsy still hasn’t figured out what he does for meat since he’s not seen him go for a hunt even once.

They spend an entire afternoon tending the garden together.

It’s exhausting, but also very rewarding in a way. Eggsy hopes Harry will ask for his help again.

Like all their other meals, they dine together, never quite tired of each other’s company. Afterwards, they usually retire to their own room, but Eggsy figures that might change when they get that new board game.

 _If_ Harry offers him more pomegranate in fifteen days.

(He does.

Eggsy eats a few seeds without a word, fighting a smile. Harry doesn’t seem to have much luck with that either.)

***

His wings has never been in such a state before. They’re more than a right mess. They’re a disgrace. A complete dishonor.

Eggsy might be getting slightly more overdramatic over time. He blames every amused snort he gets from Harry over his antics.

He’ll think about stopping when Harry stops doing his own melodrama too.

So probably never.

To be honest, his wings aren’t _that_ bad.

Nothing a good brushing won’t fix.

But there’s that tertiary feather that needs to be plucked and is driving him completely mad. He can reach it, he knows he can, but he can’t quite _see_ it, so he’s not had much luck for the past minutes.

He’s about to give up when Harry walks into his room, fisted hand rapping on the doorframe to announce his presence since the door is wide open.

“Eggsy, I was thinking, we could-” He freezes, eyes wide as he takes in Eggsy’s half-naked state. Maybe that should make him feel self-conscious, but he knows he’s in a good shape. Knows he looks good. And Eggsy has never begrudge anyone for taking an eyeful, as long as they don’t make it weird.

And he fails to imagine what Harry could do to make it weird.

Anyway, he’s got a far more pressing matter to attend to at the moment.

“Harry! Help me out, will you? That feather is making me crazy!”

He turns his back on Harry, raising his left wing and trying to point at the culprit. It should be pretty obvious which one it is, but then again, Harry isn’t used to feathers since his wings are made of minuscule scales. Eggsy might or might not have a fascination for them.

When nothing happens for a good minute, Eggsy looks above his shoulder to what’s the hold up.

But Harry is still standing by the door, except now he’s blushing like Eggsy has never seen him do before and he’s actually taken a few steps back.

“Harry?”

He jumps, blush deepening somehow, something guilty flashing in his eye when he meets Eggsy’s gaze.

“I… Um, that is to say… We… Dragons, you see…” It’s the first time he’s heard him stammer and Eggsy is pretty sure he’s actually more embarrassed than Harry is at the moment. Thankfully, it doesn’t take too long before he finally gets a grip and what he says has Eggsy blushing too. “Grooming is for _mates_.”

“Oh.” He very studiously _doesn’t_ think about being Harry’s mate. Clearly the dragon isn’t interested. “Sure, yeah. Gotcha, sorry. For bird-type, it’s common among friends and family to just-” he waves his hand at his wing when he realises he can’t bring himself to say the word ‘groom’ anymore for some reason. “I’ll manage on my own, I’m pretty flexible.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Eggsy kinda wish he had been hit by lightning all those weeks ago.

Why did he have to mention _flexibility_ just when Harry had mentioned _mates_? There is no escaping the gutter in such a context.

He’s never said anything more mortifying.

“So, yeah, thank you, I’m good, see you.”

And with that he closes the door in Harry’s face before burying himself in the blankets of his bed.

It’ll have to do until he can get the ground to swallow him whole.

***

It’s been three days since _that_ day -- as Eggsy has started referring to the grooming incident in his mind -- and thankfully, nothing has come out of it.

Harry hasn’t chased him out. Hasn’t even mentioned it and Eggsy is more than happy pretending it never happened at all.

Why would he obsess over such a small misunderstanding that got resolved so fast after all? It’s not like he _wants_ to be Harry’s mate.

He’s got more important things to do anyway.

Like figuring whether or not he wants to start on a batch of blueberry scones for lunch.

In the end, it’s not that much of a hard decision. It will take a while to bake, but he needs a break from the library, no matter how much he is enjoying the work. And the short flight Harry and him took yesterday wasn’t really enough.

He’s ruffling through the cabinets for the mixing bowl when he hears Harry coming back. He opens his mouth to ask him where the hell he put the damn bowl last time he used it, but it’s not his voice that comes out.

“Harry, give me a hand with this!”

It takes him a few seconds to realise he hasn’t talked so of course it wasn’t _his_ voice, which means someone who _isn’t_ Harry is currently behind him.

His heart pounding wildly in his chest, he turns around, but the sight that greets him is so ridiculous that he can barely manage to stifle a aughe, even as he takes a step closer to help the stranger out.

It must still take too long, because there’s an irritated growl coming from the trembling mountain of what he assumes is wrapped meat standing in front of him.

“Harry!”

He hurries up to free the dragon -- the wings are a dead giveaway -- behind the packages and takes up half the load for himself. He barely has time to see what the stranger looks like -- bald, dark eyes, large black horns pointing outward -- before he’s already pushing him out of the way, probably to put away the meat.

Eggsy follows him, but before they make more than a couple of steps, the stranger stops abruptly and turns back to stare at him with clear puzzlement.

“You’re not Harry.”

“Nope. I’m Eggsy.” He’d offer his hand for a shake, but they’re both pretty occupied at the moment.

The dragon huffs squinting suspiciously at him as he looks him over. Eggsy tenses up involuntarily. He doesn’t want to fight, knows he would definitely lose anyway against a dragon, but he won’t go down without putting up a fight.

Fortunately it doesn’t come to that, the dragon suddenly breaking into a wide grin. “Hello Eggsy. I’m Merlin. Thanks for the hand lad.”

“Sure.” He’s a bit confused that the newcomer isn’t asking more questions, because if he knows his way around Harry’s kitchen than he definitely knows Eggsy wasn’t living here a few months ago. But at the same time, it suits him just fine. He doesn’t really know how he would explain why he’s still here after all this time.

Merlin gets back to the task at hand before the silence can become awkward and they make short work of filling up the meat freezer.

“Thanks again,” Merlin repeats when they are done, holding out a hand.

Eggsy shakes it, relaxing even more when Merlin doesn’t try to break his fingers or something.

They’re still mid-handshake when Harry walks in the kitchen.

“Merlin! I wasn’t expecting you today! Has it been two months already?”

“It has and you know it.” The friendly smile is gone, replaced by an unamused glower. Eggsy would worry for Harry, but his friend doesn’t seem to be affected in the least by the glare.

“I'm afraid I had completely forgotten.”

Even though Harry looks genuinely apologetic, Merlin doesn’t seem to believe him. He looks him up and down, finishing the once over with a raised eyebrow. “Did you now?”

For some reason, the pointed look makes Harry blush hard and he studiously avoids looking in Eggsy’s direction.

“I really did. You know I’m not good with appointments.” Merlin opens his mouth, either to confirm or deny it, Eggsy will never know, because Harry cuts him off. “Anyway, are you staying for lunch?”

He throws Eggsy a sheepish look, as if he belatedly asking for permission. Eggsy just shrugs in answer. “I was thinking of making scones.”

Ultimately, it’s Harry’s home and food. He doesn’t really get a say. Though he’d be lying if he pretended he isn’t curious to know more about the newcomer and his relationship with Harry.

Friends at the very least, that much is clear from how relaxed they are in each other's company.

“If you think I will leave empty-handed _again_ , without you bribing me with food first, you’re a fool Harry Hart.”

“Actually, you won’t be leaving empty-handed today.” Harry announces, looking rather smug.

“I don’t believe you.” Merlin’s eyes are narrowed, his suspicion obvious, as if he’s expecting a trick.

“If you’d follow me to the library, you’ll see I’m telling the truth.” Harry makes a grand gesture to hurry him along, grinning like a kid. Eggsy tries not to stare too much, but he’s probably failing.

He’s seen Harry in a playful mood before, but he’s never been so unguarded. It’s… it’s rather a good look on him.

Thankfully, neither dragon pay him much mind as they leave the kitchen without another glance in his direction. That way he can pretend he’s not blushing at all and focus on his baking.

(He curses when he realises he still has no idea where the mixing bowl is and he doesn’t want to interrupt Harry now.)

*

The two dragons come back from the library just as Eggsy puts down a plate of steamy scones on the table.

Without a word, Harry takes over tea, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, waving at Eggsy to sit down.

He does so and avoids looking in Merlin’s direction as the man fills up his plate with the different types of finger food he’s prepared for their lunch. Not that he’s afraid to be judged on it, but rather that he’ll be judged on what is missing.

He means no disrespect to Merlin, he really doesn’t, but he just couldn’t bring himself to bring out any fruit. He would have felt obligated to prepare a pomegranate and if he can’t even do it for Harry, he’s not going to do it for a stranger.

He figures that he can always pretend he forgot and send Harry instead if they do mention it.

Thankfully, if Merlin notices the absence, he doesn’t say anything and neither does Harry.

“That looks delicious. Thank you Eggsy.” Harry hands him his cup, grinning widely in gratitude.

Eggsy might or might not burn his tongue when he takes a sip to try and distract himself from the butterflies suddenly fluttering in his stomach.

Merlin looks at the two of them for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Well lad, I must say that after what I’ve seen today, if you ever get tired of Harry, there'll always be a spot open for you at the university.”

Eggsy nearly chokes on air while Harry whips round to glare at Merlin.

“I’m- we- you- I mean, what?” It usually takes a lot more to have him rattled, but he just cannot seem to make sense of Merlin’s offer.

But Merlin just keeps going, undeterred by Eggsy’s reaction. “The work you’ve done in Harry’s library is really impressive. We could use a hard worker like you at the university. The librarians on our team are great, but they’re not getting any younger.”

“You’re kidding right? I don’t really know what I’m doing.” It’s one thing to come up with a system for a private collection. He’s not so naive to think a university Library would be anything but too complex to comprehend for someone with absolutely no training like him. Heck, he wouldn’t even consider himself as a novice.

“Oh lad, no, you definitely know what you’re doing. And if this is what you’ve come up with by yourself, I’m sure you’d be a quick study. You’d make a great addition to our team.”

“Can you even do that?” He doesn’t want to be rude, but he also can’t shake the fear that Merlin is making fun of him somehow.

“Sure I can. I’m the Dean, I can do whatever I want. I’m serious Eggsy. Think about it. It comes with free board and lodging if you want it, on top of a good pay and flexible hours. Also a few other perks. As university staff, you could attend pretty much any classes you’d be interested in, as long as you do the prerequisite and-”

“Merlin.” Harry cuts him off with a hiss. His expression is a mix of anger, disapproval and a few other emotions Eggsy isn’t quite sure how to interpret.

Heedless of the warning, Merlin just waves him off.

“Oh hush you! You can’t choose the lad’s future for him.”

Harry opens his mouth, but clicks it shut nearly right away when Merlin fixes him with a pointed look. Harry’s not quite pouting, but he’s definitely not smiling either.

However, even if Eggsy is kind of curious about what would have been his reply, Merlin isn’t wrong.

This is Eggsy’s choice. Even if he’s got difficulty believing it’s real in the first place.

“I’m… It’s a really tempting offer. I can’t deny that. But, I’m not done with the library here and… And I’m not tired of Harry yet.” He’s trying for levity, trying to pass it off as some teasing. He completely misses his mark and ends up sounding way too honest. Too _raw_

But Merlin just gives him a short nod at his answer and a smile. It’s just now that he’s relaxed again, that his eyes have softened and lost their cold and calculating glint that Eggsy realises he’s just been put to some kind of test.

Why and what about, he doesn’t get the opportunity to ask. It might be best that way.

“Oh well, I tried.” Merlin pokes Harry in the arm irreverently, laughing when he gets growled at in return. “Oh cheer up! You’re not the one who’ll need to interview incompetent idiots to replace Andrew now! And all that is your fault Harry Hart! All because you refuse to do the sensible thing and come live on campus!”

“The day I leave my home is the day I die.” It should be funny, except for how there is absolutely no trace of humor in Harry’s voice as he says it.

Not that Merlin seems to mind.

“Always so dramatic. You sure you wanna stay with him lad?” This time, it’s clearly meant as a joke, as if, just like that, Merlin has deemed the both of them to be friends.

And maybe Eggsy should find the emotional whiplash jarring, but he doesn’t. It’s not as easy as it’s been with Harry -- he doesn’t think anything could ever be -- but already, he feels at ease with the other dragon.

Though that might be largely due to Harry’s presence and somewhat protectiveness over him. It’s hard to feel anything but safe with him.

“Merlin stop trying to poach him! He said no already!”

“Only fools don’t change their minds!”

From there, the mock argument dissolve into airing past grievances that have been half-forgotten already and recalling anecdotes that have the three of them in stitches.

But no matter how diverting the friendly banter is, it’s not enough to distract Eggsy from realising that for some reason, Merlin apparently thinks that where one goes, the other will follow.

It makes him wonder what Harry has been telling him before lunch that he would reach such a conclusion, but he’s not brave enough to ask.

Not that it really matters. He’s never cared about anyone’s opinion before, he surely won’t start now. Even if Harry obviously holds him in high regard. It doesn’t change anything.

(Except, it kind of does.)

*

Merlin leaves a bit before dinner time.

He reminds Harry that he’ll come back in two months time for more of the same work he got today, now that he knows he’s capable of it. Then he turns to Eggsy and tells him to keep his offer in mind.

“It’s not time-sensitive. Whenever you want it, you can have it.”

Harry pushes him down the mountain right after, before Eggsy can tell him no thank you again. Judging from his cackles as he rises into the air with lazy flaps of his wings, Merlin was expecting such a reaction from him.

He waves goodbye to Merlin, feeling somewhat giddy at the renewed offer, even if he won’t take him up on it. It’s just that he’s not used to that. Not used to someone like Merlin -- the freaking _dean_ of a university prestigious enough to have Harry as one of their researchers -- thinking his work his note-worthy.

They finally step back in after Merlin has become lost to the foliage and they drag their feet to the kitchen and the pile of dirty dishes waiting for them. Eggsy might have gone slightly overboard with lunch today.

At least they won’t have to put any effort into making dinner, the leftovers will be more than adequate if they start feeling peckish.

Maybe he should have offered some to Merlin...

“Did Merlin leave because I was there?” Sure he had had the impression the other dragon liked him well enough, but what does he know, really? “Did I take over his room?” There are plenty of rooms in the mountain, but dragons are kind of territorial.

“What? No, nothing of the sort.” Harry reassures him quickly as he hands him a plate to dry off. “His usual room is completely on the other side, but he rarely uses it. You see, the pack’s den isn’t only a convenient stop on a two days trip, it’s also his mate’s childhood home.”

“Wait, his mate’s a wolf?” Cross-races mating are pretty common, but it’s rather rare to get a pair where one of the partners can fly and the other can’t.

“Yes. And she works at the university too, so whenever he needs to come by, they make it a trip to see the pack. She stays over while he comes to make sure I’ve done some actual work and then he joins her again.”

“Oh ok, that makes sense.” It’s kind of hard to imagine Merlin with a mate after his interaction with him today, but judging by Harry’s fond smile, they must make a good pair. He hopes he gets to meet her one day. “So, did they meet during one of his trips to visit you or at the university?”

“They started dating at the university, but we all met when we were children. The pack has been in this forest for nearly as long as my family has been in this mountain.”

“I thought dragons were supposed to be bad neighbors?” In the beginning, he wouldn’t have dared asking such a question. But it’s been a while since they’ve had any kind of hesitation bringing up stereotypes and rumors.

“Yes and no. With other dragons we haven’t accepted as family, it can turn into a dangerous feud pretty quickly. But we’re actually pretty good with other races. Take me and the pack for exemple. Their current cubs are too young for now, but I tutor them and give them some extra classes if they are interested. In exchange, since I don’t really like hunting, they do it for me.”

“Oh, I had been wondering about that.” It explains why Merlin had been loaded with it this morning. If he’s to come around every two months, he might as well serve as Harry’s personal delivery man too.

“Which makes me think, you can if you want to. Hunt I mean. I don’t think I’ve ever told you.”

He thinks it over as he puts away the clean dishes, but in the end he shakes his head. He knows how to and he’s good at it, but he doesn’t actually _likes_ it. He’d rather be working in the library or doing some gardening.

“Nah, I’m good. Wouldn’t want to disrupt your little system.” He sticks his tongue out and gets a playful shove in return.

“It’s okay. You can say you’re just a scholar at heart who is above such trivial matter.”

It’s Eggsy’s turn to give a snickering Harry a push. “Shut it!” He exclaims, but there’s no heat in it, which only makes Harry laughs harder. “You’re not any better.”

“Never pretended I was.” He steps aside to let Eggsy pass in front of him, his hand coming to settle at the small of his back, gently guiding him towards the living room.

Once there, they both collapse on the couch side by side. Sure, they haven’t done much today, but after weeks spent with Harry as his only company, entertaining someone else kind of drained him.

And even if it most of it was a social call, Harry and Merlin did talk about work for a while towards the end -- and assumedly, also when they were holed up in the library earlier.

“Did you really not have anything for him the last time he came over?” After weeks of cohabitation with Harry, it seems impossible that he would have nothing to show Merlin for the long hours he puts into his research.

Not that he thinks Merlin is lying either, or even exaggerating the truth. That doesn’t seem like his style.

“Yes. And most of his visits of the past year before that. I’ve been in what you would call a funk.” His contented smile belies his words even as he says them.

“It doesn’t look like it.” Sure maybe at first Eggsy couldn’t have made such a judgment, but he _knows_ Harry now. He’s not depressed or anything. He would have noticed.

Right?

“Well, what I mean is that I _was_ in a funk. It’s been easier to find my motivation lately.” There’s an intensity in Harry’s eye that makes Eggsy look away, hoping he’s not as red as the heat he feels in his cheeks would suggest. “You’ve been quite the inspiration.” Eggsy nearly gives himself whiplash as he twists around to face Harry, but the dragon’s eye is closed now, his head leaning back against the couch. The same soft smile is playing on his lips like a temptation. “Merlin is right, you know. You’re quite impressive.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he keeps silent. It doesn’t look like Harry wants an answer anyway.

They stay like that for a long time, Eggsy relaxing back into the couch after a while, the butterflies in his stomach having finally calmed down.

The silence between them is still comfortable, but there is a different quality to it too.

Something… _meaningful_.

He just can’t quite put his finger on _what_ exactly.

(They still haven’t really spoken when they bid each other goodnight.

Eggsy doesn’t know why he feels so disappointed when the bedroom door closes on Harry’s back.)

(He knows.)

(He’s just not ready to admit it yet.)


	3. Grooming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry and Eggsy have the shortest fight in the history of fights and finally start understanding each other.

“Eggsy?” Harry’s voice stops him before he can leave the living room and he barely suppresses a groan in time. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” He _is_ tired. It’s not _entirely_ a lie. Unfortunately, Harry knows him well enough now to spot when he’s not being quite honest. 

Harry sets his bags down before stepping closer and it’s simply not fair how his worried expression is already melting Eggsy’s resolve to just go hide in his room. Not forever though, just long enough that he can face Harry without picking a fight with him.

“Did something happen with the pack?”

“What? No, of course not.” The pack has been great. _Welcoming_. As far as he can tell, they've treated Eggsy the same way they've treated Harry. In other words, as if he was part of the family. “And before you ask, nothing happened in town either.”

The whole trip had been perfect. Fun and exciting. With Harry seemingly just as delighted to show Eggsy the sights as Eggsy had been to learn what his favourite spots were.

Any anxiety he had felt, any fear of being judged and found lacking for some obscure reason by the crowds, it had all dissipated under the warmth of Harry’s hand at the small of his back as he guided him through the streets. And then, the last night, when he had felt self-conscious about how he was definitely underdressed compared to everyone attending the play Harry was bringing him to see, there Harry had been again, an arm around his shoulders, their sides pressed together.

It had made him stand taller, because why would he care about what others thought when Harry paid it no mind?

Except, Harry had cared.

Eggsy hadn’t meant to look in his bags, but the pups had been playing around and had knocked into their luggage. Eggsy had just meant to fix it up before they left.

But then he had seen the roll of fabric, the very same type that had been used for the suit Eggsy had refused to let Harry buy for him. The total absence of prices in the tailor shop had been enough for him to know it would be too much.

And if at first he had regretted saying no to Harry when they were waiting for their play to start, he had barely thought about it when Harry had smiled at him after Eggsy had dared to wrap an arm around his waist. And then, when their wings had become entangled nearly to the point of impropriety, he had simply forgotten all about it.

Who cared about a stupid suit when Harry was proud to have him at his arm no matter what?

Or so he had thought and it was his own bloody fault for reading too much into things. Eggsy can only blame himself, no matter how much easier it would be to get angry at Harry.

“Eggsy, please. I can see you are upset. Tell me what it is. _Please_.” For a second there, it looks like Harry will reach for him -- grab his hand, circle his wrist, cup his cheek? -- but in the end, he only clenches his fist and let his arm fall limply at his side.

It’s that more than his words that breaks Eggsy’s tenuous control on his mouth. The fact that no matter what, even after all this time spent together, Harry still respects his boundaries. That he won’t do anything if he feels he hasn’t earn the right to it.

“Are you ashamed of me?”

“What? Whatever gave you that idea?” The only way to describe Harry’s expression is pure anguish, his wings drooping low as if he were in physical pain.

It’s enough that Eggsy nearly tells him to forget it.

But it wouldn’t be fair. No to Harry and not to himself.

He has to face the truth sooner rather than later. He’s tired of always having to find explanations for Harry’s behaviour. Explanations that are never the ones he wishes for. Once Harry tells him to stop dreaming, he won’t have to again.

It’ll hurt for a bit, but at least he’ll move on and become the friend Harry deserves.

“At the play the other night… Everyone was looking so fancy. I was the only one in a polo.” At least he had been in some dark slacks instead of his usual pair of jeans. Small mercy. “I figured that’s why you want to see me in a suit so much that you bought the fabric to make me one.”

“How did you-? Never mind- That’s not it at all Eggsy! It’s just been so long since I’ve felt like sewing and I wanted to make you a gift… Not just something that happened to fit you from my hoard, but something that was actually _for_ you!”

“But why a suit?” Any other day, the revelation would have him blushing. But right now, the fact that Harry’s first impulse at finally feeling inspired to pick up his craft again was to make something for _Eggsy_ barely even registers. “You don’t like how I dress?”

“Of course not! I mean, I do! I- I don’t want you to change anything. It’s just that a well-made suit is always flattering and with your physique… I just wanted you to have the possibility to show off if you wanted to!” Harry’s blushing, but there’s defiance in the hard set of his jaw. As if he’s willing to see this fight through even if it kills him.

“Well, too bad for the world I guess! I will continue hiding my body in horrid clothing, you can keep your fucking suits!” He’s not being entirely fair and he knows it, but he hadn’t even want to have this conversation in the first place.

His anger doesn’t last long however.

It’s hard to stay mad when Harry’s expression crumbles like it does and he just sinks on the couch. If Eggsy thought the worse thing had been to see him so worried back when he had been sick, it’s only because he’s never seen him like this before.

Dejected.

 _Defeated_.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything by it. I-” He bites his lower lip and stares at his hands. Eggsy waits but Harry only shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have presumed my gift would be well-received. I don’t get to be defensive about it.”

Yeah, Eggsy’s definitely not angry anymore.

He sighs and sits down next to Harry.

“Hey,” he kind of wants to hug him, but he settles for nudging their elbows together gently. “I’m sorry too. I understand you just wanted to do something nice.” Now that he’s taking the time to breathe, it’s easier to be rational about this. In all the months he’s known him, Harry has never been anything but absolutely genuine. Of course, he meant nothing more by it than making a gift to a friend for a special occasion or whatever. “But not everyone is comfortable being in suits everyday, yeah?”

Harry still refuses to look in his direction and Eggsy doesn’t dare touch him anymore. For some reason, it feels like they’re at the edge of a precipice and one wrong move will have them both fall and shatter on the ground.

Then, Harry chuckles. There’s no humor in it and it sounds closer to a sob than a laugh, but Eggsy can see he’s trying to smile.

“I don’t _always_ wear a suit.” It’s a weak protest, but if he’s willing to get teased, at least it means they’re already on the mend. “Only when I’m expecting company.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes. “Sure. So that day with the thunderstorm, you were expecting me?” He doesn’t want to give Harry a hard time, not really. But the dragon cannot deny he’s a bit of a peacock when it comes to clothing.

“Well, no, you were indeed an unexpectedly nice surprise that day. But Merlin had also just left.”

“Okay, fair.” It could be a lie, but the timing would fit. Anyway, it’s not like Eggsy has only that one ammunition. “But since then, I’ve only seen you out of a suit when I catch you in your jammies at night.” Which hasn’t even been that often at all. Maybe three or four times.

It’s almost cute how Harry tries so very hard to always appear prim and proper around him and-

And Eggsy is an idiot.

His stomach turns to lead when he finally understands what Harry has been saying.

He’s always in a suit around Eggsy because Eggsy is still _company_. Because he’s still imposing on his host even if he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t.

Whatever understanding he had believed they had, he’s imagined it all.

“Shite, Harry! You should have told me.” Finally Harry turns toward him, alarmed at the sudden change in mood, but Eggsy would have preferred if he hadn’t. He feels bad enough already, to only now realise he’s been taking advantage of Harry’s kindness, that he can’t stand the guilt he gets looking at him. “I- fuck- shite- I’m so _sorry_.”

“You’re- what? No, no, Eggsy, no! It’s not- I realise I’ve been giving you the wrong impression-”

“No Harry, you didn’t- I’m sorry! I shoulda fucking stay in town-”

“What I meant was-”

“I’ll just go okay? Pack my things and tomorrow I can get outta here-”

“No!”

It’s more Harry’s desperate outburst than the hand tugging at his wrist that stops him from fleeing the room.

“Please, just let me- Just- just _stay_.”

What Eggsy wants more than anything right now is to go hide his shame, but he simply cannot refuse Harry. Not when it’s the first time he’s ever asked something from Eggsy so directly.

He sits back down on the couch, his wings coming up around him, as if he’s trying to protect himself unconsciously somehow.

There’s a long silence and Eggsy startles when Harry suddenly breaks it.

“Oh! Of course!”

Before he can react, Harry has jumped off the couch and is ruffling through one of the bags.

“Harry?” He’s so confused, he doesn’t know what to think anymore.

“I _don’t_ want you to go. I -- where the bloody _hell_ is it? -- You’re _not_ company. I just… wanted to show myself on my best for you! But I should have listened to Merlin. He’s always said my vanity would be my downfall… Ah! Found it!”

He’s holding something in his hands, grinning in victory before he sobers up when he sees Eggsy’s expression. Eggsy’s not quite sure what he looks like, but it must be close to full-blown panic, because he still doesn’t know _what the fuck is going on_.

“I- This is what I really bought for you.” Harry comes back to the couch, but instead of sitting next to Eggsy, he kneels in front of him. Of the two, Eggsy isn’t sure who is blushing the hardest at the moment. “I know this is horridly presumptuous, but I think that maybe, we’ve both been refusing to see what’s in front of us?”

Gently, he puts the item he’s just retrieved in Eggsy’s hands. It takes him longer than it should to recognize it for a grooming kit. But then again, it’s the first time he’s seen such a pretty one.

“Eggsy, please forgive my forwardness. But, I had hopes that you would teach me how to groom your wings. And hopes that you would want to learn how to groom mine.”

He should say something. He really should.

But all he can do is grip at the kit in his hands and stare at Harry, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Because this just can’t be happening right?

Harry told him that for dragons grooming was an activity only done among mates. He cannot be asking _Eggsy_ what Eggsy thinks he’s asking. Right?

But the longer he goes without answering, the more crestfallen Harry becomes, his wings drooped so low that they are practically lying on the floor.

“Of course. I apologize. I realise now that I’m being completely improper and untoward. I’ve been giving meaning to your actions where there has been none. I unde-”

Eggsy cuts the flow of words with a finger on Harry’s lips. He carefully sets the grooming kit on a cushion before sinking on his knees in front of Harry.

It’s past time they finally get on the same level.

And even if he can’t quite bring himself to believe it yet, it’s his turn to take a leap of faith. He trusts Harry to catch him.

“Harry, _Harry_ …” He sounds desperate even to his own ears, as if he’s afraid that Harry won’t listen. But Harry is frozen in place and when Eggsy slides his hands to cup his cheeks, he tentatively leans into the contact like a lazy cat. “I’m still here, am I? I’ve been _choosing_ to stay _here_. I’m not leaving, unless you want me to. I’ll teach you. As long you teach me in return too.”

He’s not just talking about the grooming there. They need to learn how to understand each other without any more misinterpretation.

Judging by Harry’s misty eye and breathtaking smile, they’ve already taken a step in the right direction.

~

That night, their first kiss taste like the pomegranate seeds they fed each other at the end of their dinner.

Neither of them are going anywhere.


End file.
